Beneath
by humhallelujah
Summary: PoemOne-chapter. Artemis wonders what people really think of him. Are the eyes really the window to the soul?


**This is a poem/one-chapter in the point of view of Artemis, wondering what people see when they look at him. If they look hard enough, will they find him out? One-chapters are easier for me to write then chaptered stories, so I won't be continuing this. But I might post a couple more in this fashion that I have sitting around my computer, it depends what people think of this one. Poems are so much more easy to write then actual stories. I tried to make the poem as much relating to Artemis as possible. Oh, a lattice is a small opening (like a window in a door) through which buisness can be done. Oh, and WOO HOO! I MANAGED TO MAKE IT RHYME SO IT SOUNDS DECENT! This fic is rated K, it has nothing in it. Just random rambling of Artemis and a poem and a flashback.**

_**The flashback in this story are completely made up.**_

**This story takes place after the Opal Deception.**

**By the way, has anyone heard the SERIES IS NOT OVER! SERIOUSLY, I HEARD IT FROM THE AUTHOR LIVE! It will come out in either Christmas 2006 or 2007, and it is called something like Artemis Fowl and the Last Colony. Something about a colony that is running out of magic and is soon going to be revealed to the Mud People.**

**Diclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer does. But I do own my poem, Beneath!**

**Enjoy!**

Beneath

_Beneath these eyes, what do you see_

_If you look just beneath, do you see the real me?_

_Do you see the stereotype that others know_

_Or do you see the person that I normally show?_

_Is the only thing there the blueness of my eyes_

_That ever so quietly betrays my lies?_

_Just beneath these eyes is the intellectual brain_

_That helps me get through life without pain._

_Is this what you see, gazing at my face_

_Or am I too fast, can you keep up the pace?_

_Go a layer deeper, now what do I display_

_If your sight wasn't clouded, oh what would you say?_

_Everyone has their own problems to take_

_If you saw mine too, you would surely break._

_Now can you see the complexness of my personality_

_Haunting you so simply with such fatality?_

_Or are you still deaf to the calling of my mind_

_If you are, you are surely falling behind._

_Here you should see my social status_

_With friends or without, my eyes are my lattice._

_Go more down, now is the time_

_Where you almost turn away, yes, I'm worth more than a dime._

_Hither lies my mental condition_

_Fine as can be, I need no physician._

_But sometimes I feel like I'm a little insane_

_Can you tell that from my eyes, or must you refrain?_

_Don't turn away, the best is yet to appear_

_Just keep your concentration, I'm being sincere._

_Yet under is another layer, can you guess what is here_

_Here is where it all comes from, every single non-existant tear._

_You've finally found it, after so long_

_This is the real me, this is where I belong._

_The me that feels everything that echoes in my bones_

_All that hurts, both sticks and stones._

_Now that you know what I am like inside_

_What will you treat me like on the ouside?_

Artemis sighed and gazed out his window, viewing the natural plants, though his mind was elsewhere.

Have you ever had one of those times where you wondered about life? About why you were alive, why you had such advanced thoughts like these and animals don't? Artemis had stopped having those thoughts when he was twelve.

Now as a teenager, he wondered what people thought of him- a less complex subject, perhaps, but a perfect one for a genius adolescent. Why not, as every other question worth thinking about had already been somewhat answered by his intellect?

When people looked at him, did they see the pale-skinned boy who looked like an adult? Did they see the 'nerd' that he was classified as in school? Or did they see something else? And is it bad, or good? What does Holly see in him? What did Root see in him?

He didn't know. Perhaps he never was meant to know.

_The eyes are the window to the soul._ An old saying, believed by few these days. He was one of those few.

Which brought up another question. Could people really find out more about him by searching his eyes? He wasn't really sure. A few years ago, he would have said it was preposterous. Now, he didn't know. Meeting the faeries had changed all that. Take Holly, for instance. Elves were said to be emotional creatures, but when Holly looked at him he felt exposed. He guessed that if she looked at him for long, he would be frozen beneath her stare, his every secret unraveling itself for her eyes to see. Root was the same.

He doubted even his parents knew as much about him as Butler did, or maybe even Holly. One time with her in particular stood out in his mind...

_Artemis was tired. Vulnerable too.. and he was lagging behind. The Artic was a cold place to be, and though he wanted to find his father, he felt like he was being pushed to his physical limits. He wondered about his father. Was he okay? Was this whole project useless? Would it be useless at the end? He was worrying. How strange was that?_

_He saw Holly grin when she saw him, completely ready to boot him up so he would go faster. When he neared her grin disappeared as quickly as it came._

_He was tired.. and his emotions were open to her through his eyes. He could only imagine what she saw, but she softened and half-smiled at him._

_"Guess you really do care, huh? Now hurry up, we're all waiting on you."_

He still remembered that, from a few years ago. Funny how the strangest memories stick out in your mind.

Juliet probably thought of him as a child, though an adult on the inside. All his psycologists thought differently though. They believed that the adult was just an act, and that Artemis was just a poor, helpless, alone little boy. And he actually had to agree with them.. on the first part. Just the first part. More then once had he just wanted to be normal. But that was deep, deep inside of him. Deep enough that noone would know.

And his question about what people think of him had led him nowhere. Just to some random ramblings.

He stood up from his rolling chair and once again, sighed. Fat lot of help that had done him. He walked down the stairs as if trudging through molassas. Deep thoughts always made him depressed.. and hungry. The first thing he saw was Butler, smiling at him in a white apron. The second thing was the pancakes, waiting for him, sitting patiently on the table.

THE END

**That was SO bad. I love the poem, hate the ramblings. I should have just left it at a poem. I will probably edit it a lot later. :'( I am so tired ZZZZ**


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